


I Will Fix You

by Taybay14



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, cas fixes everything because he's just fricken awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:21:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6972640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taybay14/pseuds/Taybay14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can't really give a summary without spoilers but this is a CODA for season 11. Not a new ending because I didn't TOTALLY mind this one. But I added to it. Gave a little extra that I think we were all desperately needing. Don't read if you haven't watched the episode yet. Seriously. Don't. (unless you don't care about spoilers. Then.. carry on.. my wayward son.. shit now I'm crying again)</p>
<p>Check out my tumblr @ http://destiel-love-forever.tumblr.com/</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Fix You

“She had an accent. I believe, maybe, British?” It’s all they had to go off of. It’s all Castiel could remember. He apologized for that almost daily. Almost hourly. He couldn’t find Sam. The younger Winchester was warded from him. Castiel apologized for that even more. 

Still, the relief of finding Dean alive was radiating inside him. Every time he got upset or frustrated, he would glance over at the man beside him. He would find peace in the way his nose curved. In the way his eyes, green and pure, shined bright despite the darkness surrounding him. In the way he still smiled at Mary even though Castiel knew he was falling apart. Ripping at the seams. 

Castiel was thankful for his juice back. He could feel his grace surging to the tips of his fingers. He felt like he used to, before the apocalypse. Before humanity. It felt good. It   
felt frustrating. He couldn’t help enough. He couldn’t do enough. Dean needed more from him. 

He had teleported them to London. Had coerced a fancy hotel manager to give them two rooms. With a view. It was the least he could do after all they had been through. 

Mary was exhausted when they arrived. They had no leads. The fact that the woman knew a warding symbol made them believe she was ‘something’. But was she a hunter? A witch? A civilian who knew too much? They’d have to dig. 

Dean had already put in calls to all the hunters he knew. Did they know a British woman? Have they heard anything about Sam? Do they know of anyone with a vendetta against the Winchesters? Someone would know something. Castiel had assured Dean of this. He had no way in hell of knowing that was true, but he hoped it would help the man sleep. 

It didn’t. Castiel went to check on Mary after sundown. She had been in her room, trying to cope with the shock of being alive. They had showed her how to work the television. She asked to watch the news. Just before they left her to go to the room next door, she mentioned a hot bath. Dean was worried about her but Castiel promised that she would be okay. 

And she was, considering. When Castiel checked on her she was wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, drinking a bottle of complementary water. She was watching the news and smiling. “Politicians didn’t get any better, I see.” There was laughter in her voice. In her eyes. God. When was the last time Castiel saw those things in her son? As if she could sense what he was thinking, she asked, “How is Dean?”

“Worried.” Castiel glanced at the television. He should have asked Chuck if he could do something about Donald Trump. “He’s upset. I’m not sure how much you’re aware of, but those two boys have been through a lot. In my eternity of experience, I have never seen family like them. They redefined it for me.”

Mary smiled at this. It was sad but happy. Castiel wasn’t sure that was possible. “I’m glad those two had each other. I wish they had never had to deal with any of this. I never wanted this life for them.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. 

“Mary. This wasn’t your fault. Or John’s. Dean Winchester was fated to live this life. I don’t want to bog you down with too much information, not yet, but he saved this world. He and Sam took down Lucifer. I’m not sure if they would have had the knowledge, or strength, to handle that without the life they have lived. It’s hard to ever say that what they’ve been through was ever necessary. But those two have saved this world more than once. They are good men.” Castiel breathed, not sure if he should have said any of that. Mary seemed okay with his words so he continued. “We will find Sam. I know it may not feel like it, but we will. The Winchester brothers. They always find a way.”

Dean was finding a way when Castiel returned. He was emptying out the minibar, working his way from vodka to tequila. To whiskey. A tiny bottle of Jack Daniel’s was resting in his palm, empty. He looked up at Castiel. “Let’s order room service.”

“I think that’s a great idea. I just ordered some for your mother.” Castiel took his coat off and draped it over the chair. Why didn’t his shoulders feel lighter? “Let’s look at the menu.”

“Nah. I know what I want.” Castiel paused, looked at him. He cocked his head to the side. Dean wouldn’t look him in the eye. 

“You need to eat something.”

“No. I need to drink something.”

“You already have, Dean.”

“I need more.”

“You need food in your stomach. You can drink if you eat.”

“Don’t mother me. You’re not my mom.” Dean threw the tiny bottle and stood up. He was pissed now. The anger he had been feeling, the frustration, the fear, the sadness. It   
exploded inside him and he wasn’t enough to contain it. The first thing that broke was the television. Castiel repaired it with a glance. He threw the pillows against the wall. Then the lamp. Castiel walked by the wreckage as he followed Dean’s war path. The lamp reappeared on the side table. The pillows back on the bed. 

“Dean.”

“No. I can’t. I can’t.” He was crying now. He grabbed the chair beside the desk and threw it against the wall. It splintered but Castiel brushed his fingers across the air and it was   
okay again. Dean grabbed the desk next and started kicking it. Punching it. He grabbed it and shoved it into the drywall. Castiel lifted a hand. Fixed. “Stop doing that!” Dean turned on him. He screamed. Spit soaked the air. Tears painted trails down his cheekbones. He punched Castiel in the chest. Then again. And again. Castiel let him. 

Eventually he ran out of energy. He deflated against the angel, so quick that Castiel almost dropped him. He held him tight to his chest. Stroked his short hair. Tried not to smile at the way he seemed to seep into his chest. How could Dean not understand that he would always fix things for Dean? He couldn’t stop.

“Is my mom okay?” His voice crackled. Castiel had never heard him sound so broken. Desperate. 

“She’s just fine, Dean. She got a filet mignon, baked potato, and strawberry lemonade. I left her behind as she was throwing things at the television. She is not a fan of politics. I don’t think she will be voting.”

“That’d be hard. Mary Winchester, according to the government, is dead.” Dean snorted with laughter but deflated quickly. “What if Sam?”

He didn’t finish. The tears from before were returning and they were thick in his throat. He couldn’t speak. He was surprised he could breathe. He didn’t need to finish though. Castiel had always just understood. 

“He will be fine, Dean. I promise.”

“No one is calling back.”

“It’s only been a few hours. Give it time.” He continued stroking Dean’s hair. It seemed to relax him a bit. “If we don’t hear anything by morning, I’ll go find them myself. I will get us   
answers.”

Dean nodded against his chest, wiping his tears across the soft cotton of his shirt. “Will you stay tonight? I can’t, um, I can’t sleep. Especially if you won’t let me drink.”

“I’ll stay. Yes.” Castiel sighed. “But you will sleep, babe. I’ll help you.” Castiel didn’t realize what he said. Not until Dean stiffened in his arms. Not until he pulled away. Castiel closed   
his eyes. Willed himself not to scream. How could he mess that up so quickly? How could he slip?

Dean didn’t look upset. He looked the opposite. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.” Castiel said. The sound was barely a breath. 

“You know how I told you about Amara? How she gave me my mom because she told me she would give me the thing I’ve needed?” Dean wiped his face. He didn’t want to be crying when he admitted this. “I thought it would be you. God, Cas.” He shook his head. Looked at the floor. Looked back up. “I thought it was going to be you.”

“You’ve had me.” Castiel took his face in his hands. “Dean Winchester. I’ve been right here.” Dean fell into the kiss easily. He whispered things like thank you, needed you, love you. Always loved you. Castiel whispers them right back. They fall onto the bed. They fall against each other. Into each other. Soon, it’s hard to tell where one begins or ends. It doesn’t matter. Dean sleeps that night. He sleeps for hours. He sleeps longer than he has in years. In possibly his whole life.

**Author's Note:**

> Always accepting prompts && love @ http://destiel-love-forever.tumblr.com/
> 
> \-- comments and kudos work too. Hope you enjoyed (:


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